All Patched Up
by Rainfelt aka Phoe-chan
Summary: JakTorn Yaoi. Oneshot. After a mission, Jak and Torn have a much needed talk. Rated for language.


**AN:** Phoe-chan's back. :3  Anyway, this is my first yaoi fic, written for a couple of my friends at dA (DeviantART).  It's not smut or anything, so no warnings, but it is male/male. Torn and Jak to be exact.  Rated for language, mostly. Enjoy.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own them. ;_;

**All Patched Up**

A Torn/Jak Yaoi Fanfiction by Zoiyendra (Phoe-chan)

From the Jak II storyline.

---

The tension was so thick that if you inhaled, you could smell it. Hell, you could probably taste it if you knew what you were looking for. Torn narrowed his cerulean blue eyes and glared at Jak who sat across the desk, arms folded, his own blue eyes narrowing equally.  Daxter was making faces at Torn when the man wasn't looking.

Daxter was knocked off the table with a backhand swing.

OK, so maybe the rebel leader had beyond-excellent peripheral vision.

Jak's left brow twitched sporadically. It was beyond obvious that despite the nature of his rambunctuous friend and despite how much the ottsel sometimes deserved to be smacked he did not approve of Daxter getting flattened into the floor.

Sidekicks were hard to find these days.

"Where were we...?" Torn inquired in a low growl, fingers tapping his desk lightly. Jak spared his partner a glance, who was raising a paw muttering something to the effect of "I'm OK! The Tattooed Asshole has yet to defeat ME!", before returning his almost icy gaze back to the man he was currently 'working' for.

"We were discussing how you keep sending me on these missions... that seemingly keep getting closer and closer to ripping off my head each time," Jak muttered.

Torn snorted, rubbing his forehead with one hand. "Was that it? If you can't handle the heat, stay out of the fire.  I can't have slackers working for me. The Baron's getting closer to finding the underground and I need people who," Torn looked up at Jak dangerously, "Can hold their own."

Jak growled and stood up, clearly on the edge of his level of patience.  It wouldn't take much more for him to whip out his gun and threaten Torn with a nice dose of lead.  Or, if he were any more sadistic, he'd just lock the man in a room with Daxter for about three hours.

That last idea was very, very tempting right about now.

"Sit down, boy," Torn commanded, not even sparing him a glance as he looked through his papers. The tattoos on his face rippled slightly as he furrowed his brow, contemplating on the information before him. "Here, I need you to go and get me the files found at this location. Try to... not blow anything up this time."

Daxter, who had been flicking lint across the cold, dank floor, stood up and glared up at the rebel leader. "Yeah, well... it's not like we MEANT to blow the damned place up." He paused, looking over at Jak.  "Did we?"

Jak sighed, almost ripping the paper out of Torn's hand and grabbed Daxter, tossing him on his shoulder.  He really wanted to punch the shit out of Torn, but that could wait.  He figured he could vent his steam in a more useful manner, like shooting down a few KG.

Torn watched him leave with a stoic expression, before returning back to his work.  That boy wasn't worth the trouble he caused.

_'So why do you keep him around...?'_

Torn pushed away the nagging voice in the back of his mind and went back to his work.  At this rate, he was going to need reading glasses before he turned thirty.

---

Jak sneered as the last KG fell to the floor in a disheveled pile. He stepped over the men and grabbed the files he needed. "Look's like it's all here, Dax."

"Great, can we GO now?" Daxter inquired, growling in Jak's ear.  

Jak, in return, nodded and jogged toward the door. "Hey, Dax, tell me if the coast is clear."

Daxter was about to stick his head out to see when he stopped. "That is NOT funny, Jak."

"Depends on who's looking at it."  He pulled out his morph gun and equipped the blaster. "Let's go."

OK, so no trouble getting to the exit.  However, Jak must have overlooked the giant turrets that were positioned when he first got there.  Now that the building was on high-alert, the turret turned and targeted the boy. Jak's eyes widened and he dove for the door, tucking and rolling outside as the shots fired where he was standing.  Pulling himself to his feet, he winced as he popped his neck. That hurt. 

"Jak! Run! KG Elites!" 

Jak's eyes widened as Daxter shouted in his ear and he dove forward as shots fired out.  He stumbled as a pain ripped through his shoulder and he gave a strangled cry, knocking someone off their zoomer with the butt of his gun.  Hoisting himself onto it, he floored the gas and sped out of the area, towards the slums.

Torn stepped to the upper level of the underground just seconds before Jak pulled himself into the underground. If he hadn't been able to shake off those guards, he wouldn't have made it.  Daxter hopped off and took Jak's gun. "I'll, uhh, fix the gun... since I broke it and all..."

Jak nodded, not half listening as he headed toward the small make-shift infirmary upstairs.  Daxter had broke the vulcan mod while shooting the hellcat chasing them.  Needless to say, they almost had their asses fried because of it.

Jak stumbled up the steps and almost collapsed into the small room where the medical supplies were.  Sitting down on the bed, he gave a pained groan and began to undo his jacket.  The damned bullet was still lodged in his shoulder and it hurt like hell.  

Oh, and did I mention dizzy? Yes, dizziness was becoming an issue for poor Jak.  He swayed a bit and fumbled with the straps of his Jacket. Naturally Daxter would have got him one that was difficult to undo.  He made a mental note to smack Daxter later.

He'd managed to get the jacket off his (good) shoulder when the door opened and Jak turned his head to see who was standing there.  Torn didn't bother looking up at him, just stared at the bloody mess of his left shoulder. "Naturally, you'd get yourself shot."

Already in a pissed mood, Jak's reply was simple, but effective. "Fuck you, Torn."

Torn sneered some and walked in, closing the door behind him. "No thanks.  Hold still so I can get your jacket off."

Jak's eyes widened as he went stiff. Torn was HELPING him? What had the guy been smoking? He shivered a bit as he felt Torn's cold fingers rest on his good arm and pull the sleeves down.  After the jacket was half-way off, Torn let out a low whistle. "You really screwed up your shoulder, Jak.  This is going to hurt, but you can take it." 

Jak was about to ask what when Torn ripped the jacket off his bad shoulder and he let out a hiss, biting into his lip. That DID hurt!

Torn ignored Jak's look of immense pain and grabbed a pair of scissor-like thingies, like Jak knew what they were, and cut open his white tank top, now stained a nice brownish-red.  "Not like you'll be using this anymore... and it'll be easier than peeling it over your head."

Jak had to agree as he felt the cool metal brush his skin, as cold as Torn's fingers.  Carefully, Torn pulled the material away from the wound as Jak winced again.

"This is going to be fun to clean up..." Torn muttered dryly, peeling the off the material, leaving Jak's back bare and causing the wound to start seeping fresh blood.

"By all means, I'll gladly trade places." Jak retorted through clenched teeth. 

"Heh, like hell if I would leave myself to you to be taken care off. You wouldn't know what to do if you had a manual in front of you. Now hold still."

"Yes, mother." 

"I really should drive these tweezers through your eyes."

"What's stopping you?"

"I don't need goop squirting out onto my clothes."

"You're heartless."

Torn smirked and successfully dislodged the bullet from Jak's shoulder, tossing it in a tray.  Jak glared at it. "That damned little thing was causing me so much pain?"

"Pathetic, aren't you?"

"Do you ever have anything nice to say?"

"That soup Tess made was good."

"... I hate you," Jak muttered, slouching some.  

Torn's eyes roved momentarily over the rippling muscles in Jak's back before picking up a towel that had been soaking in hot water and medical herbs.  "That's good to know, Jak.  Anything but hating me would probably end up getting you killed."

Jak felt a small twinge inside at those words, but ignored it as Torn walked back over to him and began to wipe away the blood, patting down the wound. "Why are you helping me?"

"Cuz you're the best I got and I need you."

"You lie like a cheap rug."

Torn growled lowly as one hand clamped down on Jak's shoulder. He leaned forward and breathed into his ear. "What would you like me to say, Jak?"

Jak shuddered and stared ahead, Torn's breath giving him goosebumps on his neck.  Oh, he was so going to burn in hell for his next comment. "The truth, Torn."

Torn's eyes widened a fraction before he loosened his grip on Jak's shoulder and set the towel down. He straightened up and without a word, went to bandaging Jak's wound, leaving the boy staring ahead almost rigidly.  Once finished, he smoothed the bandaging then his other hand went to rest on Jak's right shoulder again.. brushing back a few locks of yellow hair. Jak didn't move... almost as if he were frozen by the man's touch.  Torn was good at leaving him feeling vulnerable. Sure he could come up with a way to get under the man's skin, especially when Daxter was around... but one on one like this?  He hadn't a chance.

Softly, Torn's fingers brushed across his skin down his collar bone and shoulder, teasingly trailing down his arm. Jak swallowed hard and continued to stare ahead. If he didn't, who knows what would happen.

But, to Jak's dismay, his eyes betrayed him and he looked up to Torn, who gazed down him with an intensity so fierce, it ignited his heart with flames.  Torn's hand splayed out and trailed down Jak's chest as the younger man looked up at him, wide-eyed.  "The truth is Jak... I didn't lie.  I need you.  But... in more ways than one."

Jak said nothing, but stared up at the man as he spoke. Funny, he never noticed that little scar on his cheek until now.  Of course, in the time it takes to blink, his attention was more focused on the man himself instead of the small insignificant features that made up his appearance as Torn slowly closed the gap between them. He drew in his breath quickly and wet his lips as Torn closed his eyes and lowered his face to Jak's.

And, there it was.  For a single moment, Jak felt completely at ease as Torn's lips met his in a fleeting kiss, so light, so airy, that he thought he'd imagined it.  But, no, he didn't.  Their breath mingled momentarily, before Jak reached up and closed the distance himself, this time, pressing his lips to Torn's.

Jak's lips were soft... softer than silk... the boy had never been kissed before. Though, he wasn't complaining. His own tongue trailed along Jak's lower lip, seeking entrance.  Jak was more than happy to oblige as he parted his lips, letting Torn's tongue delve into his mouth.  He gave a soft murmur of pleasure when Torn pulled away.

"I don't hate you..." Jak breathed out before Torn could speak. 

The older man in reply inclined his head. "That will most likely be your downfall."

Jak frowned. "Then let it be. It won't stop me."

"This will never work..."

"Heh... I know."

"This... never happened, either."

"I know.  As you will say the next time I get shot..." Jak gave a grin, taunting Torn to reply.

"Don't go getting shot just to get action from me."

"Hell, I'll go get myself bombed if that means you'll sleep with me."

"I refuse to dignify that with an answer."

"We both know it's true."

"That's the sad part."

"Hey, Jak! I fixed your gun!!"

Both men turned their heads toward the door as the little ottsel came scurrying in.  "You all patched up now?"

Jak gave a wry smile and glanced at Torn briefly. "Yeah... All patched up."

End.

~*~*~

AN: Did you like? I know many of you aren't yaoi fans but if yeah. ^^; Feel free to leave a comment.

**Ignore the grammar, I do**

Phoe-chan


End file.
